


In Memoriam

by Lizardbeth



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Funeral, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-06
Updated: 2009-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-02 12:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The station residents gather to remember the first commander.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Memoriam

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT (9/28/12): Today fandom learned that Michael O'Hare has passed away and I've thought about this story since I heard the sad news. So I want to dedicate it to his memory as a tribute for the character that I've loved since I first saw the show, almost twenty years ago.

The crowd gathered, subdued and yet somehow free of the tensions that ruled everyday life on the station these days.

Sheridan's gaze swept over Ivanova and Garibaldi, wearing Alliance of Light uniforms and looking somber. Garibaldi's gaze was still as stunned as when Sheridan and Delenn had told him that his friend wasn't returning. Ivanova stayed near him as a comfort. Other officers were here, Corwin and Petrushka from C&amp;C, some of the Starfury pilots, and Franklin.

There was also an unexpectedly large gathering from the alien representatives. G'Kar and Mollari were both here, as far from each other as possible, but still here united for the moment. Several League world ambassadors had come to show honor to a man that Sheridan knew they had respected, but he hadn't expected such a large turnout.

Delenn and Lennier were there of course, with Marcus and a large Ranger contingent.

It had been Delenn's idea. She had come to him not long after their secret mission to Babylon 4 and asked him for some sort of memorial service for Sinclair. Several of her diplomatic peers were slowly finding out that Sinclair was gone, and they were confused that the station was giving him no honors.

Then, she had offered the perfect memorial. "Jeffrey always liked the garden. He was the one who had a portion of it set aside for the Zen garden, because he wanted to have a place dedicated to peace of the spirit."

So Sheridan had written the order, and thanks to the station's independence, he didn't need senate approval anymore.

Now he glanced at the cloth covered part of the wall, where the plaque had been installed and then over at Delenn to see if he should start. She nodded and he stepped up to the podium, "If I can have your attention, I'll begin."

The crowd fell quiet and turned toward him in expectation.

"Thank you for coming," he said. "We are here to pay our last respects to my predecessor as commander of this station, Jeffrey Sinclair. He left here to become the first Earth Alliance ambassador to Minbar, to continue his work to forge a lasting peace between our people. He died in furtherance of that cause, and Ambassador Delenn and I have each vowed that his work will not go in vain.

"I think that almost all of you knew him better than I did. I met him on Mars during the Food Riots, when he saved my life. I knew who he was of course. It's hard to forget, when you're an Earth Force officer, the names and faces of the survivors of the Battle of the Line that ended the Earth-Minbari war. He was a squadron leader whose entire Starfury _division _was wiped out, except for him."

He saw Delenn shift uncomfortably but he glanced down at his prompt sheet and forged on. Delenn didn't like it, but John couldn't in good conscience avoid discussing the war.

"He was a hero, but I know he never saw himself that way. He saw himself as a survivor. But that wasn't the truth -- he was a hero. He did what he thought was right, to the best of his ability, all the time, every day. That to me is a hero. I know many of you would agree with me.

"I didn't know him well, but I came to know him through what you have all told me. And more importantly what none of you ever said. No one said he wasn't sincere. No one said he didn't believe in the mission of Babylon 5.

"It is due to his tenacity, his courage, his sheer ... _stubbornness _\--" he saw Delenn's and Ivanova's lips twitch in involuntary agreement with that assessment, "that this station exists. New Vegas was giving odds of 500 to 1 about this station lasting a year past going on-line. But Jeff Sinclair beat those odds. Not only did this station exist -- it flourished. Under his command, it became what it was meant to be : a place for all races to come together in peace. It became strong enough to stand on its own and to defend what is right and just, against the forces of darkness and oppression. To him we all owe a great debt that we are not just another tool for President Clark's dictatorship."

And it was true. Without Sinclair's careful diplomacy here in the early days of the station, none of this independence would have been possible. Not just his cultivation of the Minbari, but of all the other ambassadors as well.

He turned his eyes on them now, moving from Brakiri to Abbai to Narn. "I think every one of you learned that if he said he would do something, he would. I think everyone would agree that in the field of Earth relations with other regimes he dealt fairly -- sometimes at great cost to himself, I would add. You all learned to trust him, and I believe he repaid that trust in full measure. I have the great honor of carrying on his legacy, knowing that his actions and his words are a difficult path to try to follow. But as he told me, "what is right is very rarely easy. To make no choice is still a choice. Be sure the consequence of every choice is one you are prepared to live with." And I have tried."

His gaze softened looking now at Ivanova and Garibaldi who had both lost their friend. "On a personal level, he was, I have been told, a great friend. A comfort and support in time of need, accepting of weakness and differences, giving second chances while at the same time encouraging each person to be better. A teacher," he glanced at Marcus as he said that and then looked at the pilots, "And, or so I am reliably informed, the best Starfury pilot this station has ever seen."

The pilots chuckled a little, then looked startled that they had broken the serious moment.

He let the amusement die away, but the atmosphere remained slightly lighter because of it.

"Jeff fought to have this part of the garden set aside. He was told that it was against station regulations to have a part of the garden that did not support oxygen-exchange and was just "a bunch of rocks and sand." I'll read a bit of his answer to the senate, since it describes not just why the Zen garden is here, but also why Jeffrey Sinclair will be missed so sorely."

He cleared his throat and looked down at the prompt flimsy.

__

""Babylon Five is dedicated to peace. Not just to the peaceful relations between interstellar neighbors, but all kinds of peace. How likely is it that anyone will find peace when there is no where to think?

"If there is nowhere to find inner peace, where will we find outer peace?

"A Zen garden of rock and sand serves no oxygenating purpose, that is true. But it still serves a life support function, the greater need of serenity and clarity of mind. When the station is at full capacity there will be very few quiet places. I do not think it is too much to ask that a piece of the garden, merely two by eight meters, be devoted to contemplation.""

John found himself swallowing hard at the end. There were distinct echoes of Valen in those words. He could only wonder now why no one had ever thought it before.

John lifted his head and addressed the absolutely silent gathering. "No, Jeff, it is not too much to ask. So, it is with great sorrow and pride that I dedicate this garden to the memory of Jeffrey David Sinclair, for now and until the station is no more."

He nodded and Allan swept the cloth off the tasteful plaque. It read simply,

__

In memoriam,  
Jeffrey David Sinclair  
2218-2260  
First commander of Babylon Five.  
"Come, my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world...  
for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset, and the baths of all the western stars..."

He addressed the crowd again, "There will be a Babcom channel devoted to your remembrances and thoughts, if anyone wishes to share his legacy. Every post will be copied to Ambassador Sinclair's brother as his surviving family. Thank you all for coming."

He stepped off the podium walked to the plaque, and gave a formal salute holding it for the regulation three seconds.

This was a memorial for Sinclair. Minbar had more memorials to Valen than one could count, from small holy shrines to vast temples, but Delenn had been right -- what Sinclair had become in the past couldn't change the fact that he had left a legacy in this time that likewise deserved to be remembered.

The former Earth Force officers all followed his lead, coming up to the plaque one by one and saluting.

Delenn and the Rangers all bowed their heads. G'Kar gave a formal Narn salute of respect, and the other League members showed their respect in their own ways as well. It was, actually, very touching to see how deeply Sinclair had affected some of the ambassadors.

Ambassador Kalika of the Abbai carried a single white flower that looked a bit like a calla lily and laid it on the ground below the plaque. "A true friend to the Abbai," she declared and moved away. John made a mental note to ask whether the words meant anything beyond a declaration of respect.

Sheridan was surprised when Londo came up the plaque as well. He looked at it for a moment, and addressed Sheridan without turning his gaze from it. "A stubborn man. But a good one. The best always leave too soon, don't you think, Captain?"

"Indeed, Ambassador."

"I'm sure he is arguing with the gods right now," Londo observed. "The commander could talk a person into anything. He could be quite persuasive. Well, if anyone could straighten out the gods, I would think it would be Sinclair, though it may take some time with them all. I will drink to him tonight, Captain, and pray for his success."

He left with a final nod, which Sheridan returned, surprised by the words. And then he was mildly amused by the thought of Sinclair sitting down with the fifty-odd gods in the Centauri pantheon and giving them a stern lecture for letting the Centauri get into such a mess.

Most everyone had drifted away and left by this time. But Sheridan's amusement vanished when he realized who was the last to be coming up to the plaque.

Garibaldi ignored him, focusing his eyes on something through the plaque on the other side. He was toying with something in his hands, restlessly turning it over and over so that Sheridan only had a glimpse of something small and glittering.

His face was one vast well of grief and hurt as he shut his eyes.

He said nothing for a long time, and Sheridan was just about to go to him, when Michael whispered hoarsely,

"Goodbye, Jeff."

Swiftly he bent and put whatever it was on the ground. Before Sheridan could do anything, Garibaldi stood again and stomped down on it.

There was a crackling sound and when Michael's boot was clear Sheridan realized what it was. About the size and shape of quail egg, the small blue crystal had been reduced to several splintered, glowing shards.

It was a Minbari memory crystal. One that would glow for a hundred years.

Delenn murmured nearby, what had to be ritual funeral words, "Let the light shine a beacon to guide you home. From the universe we come into life, and after, back to the universe we go, back into the sea of creation to become one and await our rebirth. We who remain will not forget the path you showed us, following the true Calling of your heart and soul. Go in peace, Jeffrey."

She paused a moment to look around the garden and make sure no one was around who shouldn't be. Then she slowly walked to Garibaldi's side, and put a hand on his arm. She spoke the prayer softly, "When we enter the fire, you protect us. Walk beside us, Entil'Zha, and guide us through the darkness. We are never alone, for you are with us. Be our strength and our comfort in our time of need. In Valen's name. _I'la Valen_."

Michael whispered hoarsely, "_I'la Valen._"

Delenn led him away, casting one look back over her shoulder at Sheridan, as if to check whether he understood. He waved her on -- this was a part of Delenn he understood well. The part which had administered to dying Markabs and who couldn't help seeing someone hurting and wanting to help. There was no question that Michael was hurting, and perhaps, in helping him, Delenn could also help herself. Sinclair's loss had hit her hard as well, though she shared little of her grief with him.

He turned to see how Susan was doing, and saw Marcus approach her and murmur something. She shook her head at him, lips compressed tightly and spun away. Marcus followed her.

Very shortly Sheridan realized that he was alone in the garden.

He glanced again at the plaque, remembering his last sight of Sinclair -- calm and ready for the challenge he was to face in the past.

"You left a hell of a legacy, Jeff," John murmured to the hovering spirit that he could almost feel in the air. "I hope you realize that. And I don't mean just that Minbari stuff -- I mean here and now." He traced the smooth rounded edge of the bronze with one finger. Such a small thing to mark something so important. "I hope, wherever you are, you'll keep an eye on this place. I'll take care of her, but she'll always be yours, Jeff. Watch over us."

Sheridan let out a small sigh and turned away from the plaque. He looked one last time at the quiet Zen garden, and the rocks in the carefully raked sand.

Then he slipped through the archway and left the garden behind.

_fin_


End file.
